Stars In Another Sky
by Ammaranthe
Summary: The Battle of Britannia has been won, but the threat of the Neuroi is never far away. And in an ironic twist, peace, not war, may prove the greatest threat to everything the Strike Witches have ever stood for ...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: "All Quiet On the Pants-less Front"

"Vertical Take-Off and Landing tests, day two. Thunder Striker unit - VTOL test number one. This is Wing Commander Minna Dietlinde Wilcke speaking. Observation posts, report in!"

"Point Alpha, Sergeants Miyafuji and Bishop reporting in!", Yoshika barked through the radio, making Commander Minna smile at her enthusiasm.

"Point Bravo, Lieutenant Yeager and Officer Lucchini reporting in", a calmer Shirley crackled over the comm station. As they hovered in the air, Francesca snatched the binoculars away, and focused them on the runway

"Heh-heh-heh, let ME see!"

Commander Minna pretended not to hear.

"Point Charlie, this is Officer Perrine Clostermann and Erica Hartmann reporting in. Good day Commander."

As the transmission cut out, Erica yawned in the background. The Commander frowned, but said nothing about it.

From her place in the tower, she looked out, down the length of the runway, to its farthest reaches ending in the North Sea, where the rough channel waves broke against it. Across the sea lay Gallia, on the continent, and farther inland, Karlsland - her home. The Neuroi were there.

In the dim, pre-dawn light, Barkhorn could be seen standing in the middle of the runway. She took off the fur lined bomber jacket Shirley had lent her to guard against the early morning chill, and handed it to one of the technicians, who took it and hurried away for the safety of a nearby bunker.

The dawn was just beginning to break, high overhead, illuminating the edges of the clouds with its painted light, but on the ground below, everything was still dim, and cold. A sharp wind went whipping down the length of the runway, swatting at the twin tails of her hair, but Barkhorn seemed not to notice.

"Weather conditions?" Commander Minna asked. Yoshika gave the reply.

"Wind - forty-three degrees. Speed - ten knots. Visibility - five miles. Ceiling - ten thousand feet."

"Traffic?"

"Just a moment, m'am! Officer Litvyak is on her final approach!"

As Yoshika spoke, they all caught sight of Sanya as she floated lazily by, on her way in from the night patrol.

"Look alive, Litvyak! You wouldn't want the Neuroi to catch you napping!"

Sanya nodded drowsily, with as much enthusiasm as she could manage (which wasn't very much at all).

"Eila?"

The mysterious pale girl in the blue jacket, with fair hair and even fairer skin, turned to face the runway. As she looked down the length of it, her eyes seemed far away somehow, in a manner that had nothing to do with distance.

"I see . . . nothing."

The Commander took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"Clear the area of all non-essential personnel!"

A siren sounded, it's klaxon call weak and thin as it went up overhead, getting lost in the space between the sky and the clouds. The last remaining mechanics quickly made for cover, leaving Barkhorn standing by herself in the middle of the runway.

"Ladies, eyes on the sky! Flight Lieutenant Barkhorn, this is the Cauldron speaking - are you ready to try out your new broomstick?"

"Born ready, m'am!"

"That's what I like to hear. On your mark - up is go at your command. And Trudy", the Commander added, her voice softening, "You be a good boomerang and come back to me, do you hear?"

"Affirmative Minna."

"At your signal, then."

For a moment all was silent. From their places in the tower, on the ground, and in the air, all eyes were on the stern looking girl who stood alone in the middle of the runway. She wore the new Thunder Striker unit, the successor to the ill fated Violet Lightning, one pod on each leg, polished and smooth, their intakes open and hungry to devour the air and funnel it through, where mixed with magic, it would come pouring out the other side in a fiery exhaust. She didn't wear any kind of pants or hose - nothing that might get in the way of the operation of her Strikers. Modesty was sacrificed to the necessities of war. Her thighs were thrawn and sculpted as they disappeared into the units on each of her legs. In the deep shadows it was difficult to tell where the machine ended and the girl began.

Barkhorn looked to the tower, and made a small salute, then ignited her jets. A low rumble went along the ground as their orange glow filled the space beneath her. Closing her eyes, she felt herself lift slightly. With clenched fists, she settled onto a cloud of fire.

"She's had a successful run-up", Eila noted.

Yoshika held her breath. The Commander said nothing.

"GO !"

Barkhorn's voice exploded through the radio. The jets flared, leaving the ground to shudder beneath her as she came away from it. She put her hands over her head and dove - STRAIGHT UP. Like an angel ascending back to her native heaven she rose, the two long tails of her dark hair splayed out beside her in imitation of the con trails forming beneath. The ground leapt away and she split the sky.

The Commander watched, expressionless.

". . . so jealous . . .", Shirley mumbled.

As the rumble faded into a far off thunder, Francesca focused the binoculars on Barkhorn as she leveled off and settled into a basic traffic pattern, flying first against the wind, then turning to cross it. Commander Minna needed no such help - her power of Spatial Awareness let her know where the subject was at any given moment with far more exactness than possible with a visual confirmation. As an added precaution, Eila followed along, shadowing just ahead of her, using her magic to predict from one moment to the next where she would be.

Barkhorn turned again, onto the downwind leg of her flight. Having the wind behind her gave an extra boost, and she couldn't resist a small flare from her engines that sent her rocketing by as she flew parallel to the runway.

"The Thunder Striker is AMAZING!", Yoshika shouted over the roar of the engines. She waved with childish enthusiasm, forgetting for a moment the seriousness of the exercise.

"She's fast", the Commander calmly agreed.

Barkhorn turned to cross the wind again.

"She's about to turn final", Shirley said, momentarily wresting the binoculars away from Francesca.

"Aww . . .", Fran pouted.

Barkhorn turned again, facing into the wind as she put herself in line with the runway. But instead of settling into a gently descending slope, she leaned forward, headfirst into a dive.

"Trudy!"

But Barkhorn didn't respond. Instead she leaned in farther, sweeping her arms back as the dive grew steeper so she would present less resistance to the wind.

"Pull up!" Commander Minna shouted. "You could red out from nosing over like that!"

The jets roared in reply.

"Do we even know the never exceed speed on something like this?" Shirley asked, trying to sound calm, but even she was getting a bit nervous.

"They said they wanted a test", Barkhorn answered through clenched teeth, squinting from the wind. As she drew closer, her shadow came racing in from the west to fly on her wing beneath her, rippling as it passed over the ground.

"She's coming in too hot!" Shirley warned.

"TRUDY I SAID PULL UP!"

Just as it seemed that Barkhorn and her shadow were destined to meet in a fatal collision in the midst of the runway, she arched her back, and using all of her tremendous strength, stood up out of the dive. There followed an ear splitting explosion as both units of the Thunder Striker flared, sending out matching shockwaves down either side of the runway, and sweeping the surrounding fields free of dust.

When the sky cleared, Barkhorn remained floating in mid-air. Relaxing her magic output, she descended slowly in a straight line, the same as she'd risen. When she was almost touching the runway, she cut her engines altogether. There was a glimmering of magic beneath the Strikers' as their power disappeared, then she settled onto the ground with a small "thump."

Commander Minna tossed her headset over her shoulder and leapt down the tower stairs, taking them three at a time.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" Yoshika shouted.

"I'll bet it's a new record!" Shirley beamed.

Even the usually disinterested Hartmann seemed to perk up:

"If we can fly faster, then that means it takes less time to get there - which means we can leave later - which means more sleep!"

"Is that ALL you care about?", Barkhorn scolded.

The only one who seemed unimpressed was Perrine. She'd been standing in the hangar door when Barkhorn made her approach, and had to dive for safety when the shockwave hit. She had managed to catch hold of the doorway, but the ensuing blast tore the top button of her jacket open, and left her scarf hanging, uneven and untied, with the left side halfway down to her waist. Her clothes, her hair and her mouth were all full of dust.

"I think it's a *beastly* contraption", she said as the Commander hurried past, with Eila following at a safe and very calculated distance behind. When Eila got to Perrine, she drew herself up, and with all of the dignified, frosty elegance that possessed the young pilot from Suomus - stuck out her tongue.

"Nyah!"

Perrine's eye twitched.

"Nyan!" Francesca agreed, pulling down her eyelid for extra emphasis.

"Why you -"

They were interrupted by a loud "SMACK!"

"Just what do you think you were doing!"

Barkhorn was left standing, her head turned to the side, a red palm print still stinging on the side of her face.

"Minna, I just -"

"Just nothing! I've lost enough friends to the Neuroi! I'm not going to lose you to some stupid stunt in a test flight! It wouldn't be fair to Erica or Mio - they're your friends! And it wouldn't be fair to Yoshika or Lynnette, who both look up to you. It wouldn't be fair to ANY of us to have to pack up your things, or to see your empty room every time we passed by in the hall. And it wouldn't be fair to me to have to write a letter to Chris back home, and it wouldn't be fair to her when she read it!"

The mention of her younger sister softened Barkhorn considerably.

"Minna I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Francesca groaned, seeing everything had gotten so serious.

"Hey -", she said, making them all look over at her. "I just realized something . . ."

"What's that?" the Commander asked.

Fran cupped her hands to her mouth.

"Captain Barkhorn's got THUNDER THIGHS!"

Barkhorn's eyes widened.

"Why you little - "

She lurched forward, but the Thunder Striker units prevented her, and she would have fallen if Minna and Erica had not caught hold of her arms.

"Get back here!" she shouted, shaking her fist as Minna and Erica were still struggling to hold her up. After flailing for a moment, she slipped one leg, and then the other out of the Strikers, and took off running after Francesca barefoot.

Fran ran for her life.

"Shirley, help!", she shouted between giggles. "I need your speed!"

"Hmm", the Commander considered. "I think that's a better punishment than anything I could devise."

"Lucchini, when I catch you - I'm going to KILL YOU!"

The Major Sakamoto had a deep, booming laugh. It was very distinctive and not very ladylike and - to her mind - altogether unsuitable for a woman. All the members of the 501st knew the sound of her "Oh - ho - ho!", which could be heard as clearly as the boom of a canon report, even over the sound of a Striker's engines.

She had wide, voluminous eyes - or a wide eye, rather, the one that could be seen - as wide as the sky. Her other one - her magic eye - she kept hidden under an eye patch, which she would lift up when she needed to see far away, or search out the core of an attacking Neuroi. Her eye seemed to well up, and brim over with something - eagerness - sincerity - loyalty . . . and possibly the slightest hint of good natured mischief. It was the eye of a pilot, used to seeing the sky, darting everywhere, taking in everything, always searching for the tiniest speck that might grow into an approaching enemy. Indeed, she was most at home in the sky.

But that evening, Major Sakamoto was on the ground, in a military staff car, heading back from an awards ceremony held for pilots from Fuso, who were in port with their carrier, the Akagi. Getting a real life Strike Witch to present the awards had been a major coup for the top brass. Normally Commander Minna's standing order against any Witch fraternizing with the male members of the armed services would have prevented such an engagement. There were still those who considered the 501st's chief value to be as a propaganda unit - an international cheerleading squad who put on displays of aerial ballet, and were better suited to pom-pom's than machine guns - never mind their devastatingly effective kill rate.

Privately, the Major detested Strategic Command's pigishness. But an order was an order. And in the end, it didn't really matter - be it the 1st or the 501st, JG 52 or JG 3 - they were all pilots, and the guns of the Neuroi did not discriminate, leveling all alike with a murderous equality. To the enlisted men, the Major was much more than just some "skirt" to look at. For most of them, this would be their only chance to see a real life Witch. Happily, they found her to be the genuine article - a pilot, like themselves, used to being shot at, and who'd done quite a bit of shooting herself. Her deep laugh boomed over and over again, "Oh - ho ho!", as she listened to their stories, and told them stories of her own about victories, and close escapes, the universally bad coffee at every base, and the occasionally unreasonable commanding officer.

The ceremony itself had been fairly brief - there were the usual formalities and protocols, followed by a presentation of awards. There were Tanken, the daggers presented to pilots from Fuso after their first aerial victory, and on that evening, two men were also receiving the Order of the Golden Kite, which was Fuso's medal for those who had shot down five enemies, and become an Ace. It was a rare honor under any circumstances, but against the Neuroi, five was an almost unthinkable number - without magic or the Witches' Striker Units, few pilots lived long enough to shoot down even one.

Sakamoto herself had made Ace many times over, but she showed the utmost deference as she conveyed their honors, each man bowing low to receive his dagger, or to have the ribbon placed around his neck. She was especially kind to the pilots who were new, or who were very young. This evening was their time, and none of them knew if it would be their last.

There were stripes for special conduct - for those who had been wounded in action. She gave out far too many of these. But the most solemn awards were those for the dead. There were so many of them. Instead of an empty chair, each man who was being awarded posthumously had a little table with his picture on it, so that his comrades could remember him, along with a vase with a sprig of sakura - cherry blossoms, the symbol of this fleeting life.

Major Sakamoto took up a dagger that was to be given to one Kenji Akizawa. He'd had his first victory against a Neuroi just off the Britannian coast. His wing man, and several other squad members had all confirmed it. He'd been shot down later that same day. Sakamoto held the dagger in front of her forehead, with the blade facing towards her, and the handle to her left. She bowed very low, and then placed it on his table, along with his stripes.

As she moved to the next table, she heard one of his companions say,

"Smile, Akizawa - the Major's a very pretty woman!"

Mercifully, Commander Minna had given a public order forbidding her from attending the Officer's Ball, and as an officer, she of course could not go to any functions for the enlisted men, so she had a very convenient excuse to bow out of the many invitations she received. She was very gracious about it, and in true fighter pilot fashion, each of them left under the impression that if she could have gone, she'd have gone with HIM. If you sat a hundred airmen down in a room, and told them that their next mission was so dangerous only one of them would return, each of them, to a man, would turn to his companions and say,

"You poor ninety-nine bastards!"

Such a mission would have given them better odds. The Major's kill rate was one hundred percent. Still, they asked her, even though they knew what her answer would be - must be. It was war, and they were just happy to have something to shoot at.

Now, afterwards, she sat in an officer's staff car as it made its way along the winding road that led from the port back to The Cauldron, the Witches' base. Her Striker Unit, an A6M Mitsubishi "Zero", was in the trunk, along with her Type 99 air cannon - just in case. She'd just as soon have flown home by herself, but the orders from Strategic Command insisted that she was to be driven - they weren't about to risk having anything happen to her and spoil their public relations coup.

The staff car was a ponderous, lumbering affair, with a raised hood and wide fenders that flared out over the white walled tires with their domed hubcaps. It being wartime, all available technological improvements went into things like guns and tanks and planes. Civilian items, like automobiles, lagged far behind. None the less, it's interior was luxurious, being very well apportioned, with ivory carpets and upholstery that competed with the gleaming white paint and chrome of the exterior. Command had specifically requested a white car - they thought it would look more dramatic for the press to have the Major with her white coat and gold buttons get out of an all white car - and it certainly did look good for the photos.

Sakamoto refused the traditional chauffer's custom, and sat up front, in the passenger seat, with her sword resting beside her. Usually she wore it strapped over her shoulder, but for today's ceremony she'd worn it slung from her waist, in parade fashion. Pilots from Fuso were awarded the right to wear the sword, or Kai Gunto, in recognition of meritorious conduct during aerial combat. But Sakamoto's sword wasn't a prop or a badge of rank - she used it to down Neuroi at close range, like Fuso's samurai warriors of old.

In true Witches' fashion she didn't wear any pants or hose - nothing that could get in the way of her Strikers - and the sight of her bare legs emerging from underneath her jacket made quite an impression on her young driver, who struggled to keep both his eyes and the car on the road. The backdrop of the ivory upholstery made them look very luxurious, while the fact that she wore no socks and very low cut shoes gave her legs a lengthening effect, making them seem all the more long and inviting. Fighting with the big wheel of the sedan took a lot of effort, and at last he gave in, and stole a glance at the Major's gleaming white thigh.

Instantly her eye met his.

She had a wild look, and if her ears and tail had been out, as they were when she used her magic, they would have been straight up, and wagging. Seeing he was discovered, her driver, a teenage boy with brushy hair and a somewhat wrinkled uniform, gulped as if he was about to plead for his life, and turned both his eyes and the wheel so hard that he swerved the car halfway into the other lane.

The Major had to fight back a fit of laughter, and turned away to hide her grin, ignoring for the moment that he might try to steal another look at her unprotected leg (which he did). Instead, she occupied herself by looking at the trees pass by outside the window. The road between the Cauldron and the port was mostly forest, though here and there it ran through a clearing, or across a small plain.

If the boy had tried anything, Sakamoto could have drawn her sword and castrated him (she knew several techniques for just such an occasion that would be suitable for use in close spaces like the interior of a car.) But looking at him, she found she could not be angry. Under the circumstances, she found his naivety refreshing. She was used to being a Major - to having rank and carrying a rifle and a sword, and to drilling and interceptions and patrols. That was the world she knew, and though she longed for nothing more than peace - she was very good at. But just this once, she did not altogether mind being thought of as a woman.

"I - uh - I've never met a girl with an eye patch before -"

"OH - HO - HO !"

This last effort was too much. At the boy's attempt to make conversation, she burst out laughing, her deep, booming voice filling the inside of the car. Stifling back a chuckle, she couldn't resist having a bit of fun with him.

"The eye patch is to conceal my magical ability . . ." she said, covering her mouth with her fist and making a small cough, as though she were revealing a very deep secret.

"So your magic is in your eye?"

"Yes. It's a powerful laser - you might even call it a *death* ray . . ."

His eyes grew wide.

"The inside of my eye patch is lined with a special material, like what they use to make Strikers, so that it resists the magic. But when I raise it up . . ." she said, putting one finger to the side of her face.

The boy instantly made sure both of HIS eyes were focused squarely on the road.

"Ahem - you get the idea. It's a good thing I keep it tied on very securely. If it fell off, you and everything inside this car would be burned to a crisp."

"Urk!"

The boy recoiled in terror from this strange magical creature sitting beside him. Who knew Witches had such terrible powers? And if she had known it wasn't her eye patch he'd imagined her removing - the possibilities were too horrible to contemplate!

The Major turned to look at him, her good natured smile making him shudder as her eye met his.

At that moment, a Neuroi's beam sliced through the road . . .

To Be Continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2 - Artillery In The Distance

Chapter 2 "Artillery In The Distance"

The first thing the young lieutenant became aware of was a sense of motion. Then the sound of footsteps, and the rustling of dry leaves. The sun winked in and out, as if passing behind the clouds. Then the motion stopped, and the light was blotted out by a single large shadow.

Opening his eyes, he could see the Major Sakamoto standing over him. Her hand was beside her forehead, holding up her eye patch as she scanned the sky. She seemed to be looking very intently at something, but when he tried to follow her gaze, all he could see above them were the trees, with the clouds and sky beyond. So he looked at her leg instead. It rose up - up - impossibly white and gleaming, until it disappeared into her coat.

With a shock he realized that he could see her black panties, just inside her jacket.

"Ahh!", he started, making her look down, which frightened him even more.

"WAUGHH!" he shouted, sitting up with quite a start, until he realized that he had not been vaporized, or burned to a crisp. The Major's magic eye looked just like her other one, except that it was purple, and gave off a faint glow, made brighter by the shadows.

"Shh . . .", she cautioned, touching her finger to her lips, and then looked back toward the sky.

Beside them, he could see a trail along the forest floor, from where she had dragged him through the leaves, away from the side of the road.

The Major searched for several moments, then apparently satisfied with whatever she did or did not see, turned her attentions back to the ground.

"You'll be alright", she said, letting the eye patch down after studying him for several moments.

"But -"

"You don't have any major injuries."

"How can you -" he started to ask, but she pushed him down firmly.

"Wait here. I'll send help."

"But where are YOU going?"

The Major smiled, then let out a small chuckle. She tried to keep her laugh to a whisper, but for her, a whisper was something like a muffled gunshot.

"Oh - ho - ho!", she said, pointing at the sky. Before he could ask any more questions, she turned, and disappeared into the trees.

The car was sitting nosed down into a ditch that had been carved out by the Neuroi's beam weapon. Major Sakamoto lifted her eye patch, and examined it closely. She couldn't smell any gas, but she wanted to be sure. Seeing nothing, she let it back down again, then made her way around to the driver's side window. Reaching in carefully to avoid the broken glass, she took the keys out of the ignition, then went around to the trunk to retrieve her Strikers.

The A6M's were broken down into two segments for each leg. She assembled each one, standing them against the back bumper of the car, then reached for her rifle. The Type 99 aerial cannon was heavy without her magic, so she rested it on the ground. Then, using the edge of the trunk to lift herself up, she kicked off her shoes and plunged her bare feet and legs into the waiting Strikers.

A pair of black ears pricked up through the mass of her dark hair, accompanied by an unearthly sound as the tuft of a black tail emerged from beneath her coat. The blue light of a magic circle spread beneath her feet. She leaned away from the car, feeling herself held up by a cloud of magical power. Reaching to her side, she released her sword belt from her waist, and brought it up over her shoulder, so that her katana hung across her back. She put her hand up beside her head and gripped the hilt, feeling to make sure she could reach it easily if needed. Then she took hold of her rifle, now light as a feather, and draped the sling across her other shoulder, so that it hung under her arm.

The roar of the Strikers grew louder as she released more of her magic energy. It flowed down her hips and along her legs, making her feet tingle with the motion of the propellers. The magic circle grew beneath her, widening until it filled the road. When it had reached the trees on either side, she leaned forward, and was off.

It was going to be close. The forest road was narrow, and in no place ran in a straight line for very long. Already up ahead she could see the wall of trees looming nearer as the road bent off to the right. Keeping her magical output at its maximum, she arched her back, setting a very steep climb. The engines protested, struggling to carry her aloft.

"Just a little more!" the Major shouted, feeling the tip of her starboard side Striker unit kick against one of the upper most branches. There was a fierce snarling sound as the leaves shredded in the propeller. Then, a few feet more, and she was out of the trees, and into the sky.

It was always stunning, the sudden change from Earth to Heaven, and now even more so, with the setting sun filling the clouds with an orange glow, but the Major had little time for admiration. Putting out her right hand, she rolled into a sharp bank. At once she could feel herself begin to drop, as the thrust from her Strikers was split between making the turn and keeping her in the air, so she eased back, and scissored her legs to adjust for the angle. A climbing turn was dangerous at this altitude - she was high enough to kill her if she fell, but too low to have any time to recover from a stall. But it was a chance she had to take.

"This is Major Sakamoto to The Cauldron - Cauldron, do you copy, over?"

Silence.

The Major tapped her earpiece, then tried again.

"I repeat, this is Major Sakamoto to The Cauldron - Cauldron, do you copy, over?"

Still no reply.

"This isn't good", she thought, working the cocking handle of her rifle. "That Neuroi was headed towards the base . . ."

Yoshika listened as the siren filled the air. She should have been running, but opening her door to find the hall empty was something of a shock. For a moment she just stood there, listening to the sound that had come to define her existence. Everything else in her life - the training with Major Sakamoto, sharing the kitchen with Lynette, even fighting with Perrine - those things all existed in between moments like these. The sound of the siren stitched everything together, as it rose to fill the hall, filling in the space between everything, before falling off in a long, plaintive wail.

"Is it the Neuroi?" Lynette asked, opening her door. She was holding her sweater in one hand and her jacket in the other.

"Well of COURSE it is", Perrine said with her usual sense of annoyance. "Who ELSE would it be?" She was better prepared. Her jacket was already buttoned, and her scarf hung loosely around her neck. She had one end of it in her teeth, tying a knot as she ran.

And then the spell was broken, as everyone else poured into the hallway.

"Aw man - couldn't they have waited until after dinner?" Francesca groaned.

"Or at least until after my bath", Shirley said.

"Ladies", Commander Minna said sharply, seeing the general disorder "We don't want to keep the Neuroi waiting."

"Yes ma'am!"

Just then, Lieutenant Barkhorn burst out of her room, dragging Hartmann with her.

"Miyafuji!" Barkhorn shouted.

"Trudy no!" Erica protested, trying to restrain her.

"You've got help me!"

"Trudy, you're in no condition to fly -"

"I'll be fine if Yoshika uses her magic on me!"

Yoshika recoiled, uncertain of what she should say or do.

"I - uh -"

"Miyafuji will do no such thing!" the Commander cut her off sternly. "Lieutenant Barkhorn, you will return to your quarters - and STAY there. Hartmann is right - you're in no shape to go up."

"But -"

"THAT'S an order! Do I make myself understood?"

". . . yes Minne . . ."

"Very well. Hartman, escort her."

"Yes ma'am," Erica said, catching Barkhorn as she collapsed.

"Meet us in the hangar when you're finished."

"YES MA'AM!"

Commander Minna adjusted the sling of her MG 42 while the other witches fired their Strikers.

"Trudy's in no condition for combat", she thought, "Mio's away, and it's still too early for Sanya - damn the Neuroi and their perfect timing!"

"Commander?", Eila asked, seeing that the others were ready.

"All right ladies - initial reports show a small flight forming up over the coast of Gallia. Shirley, you're the fastest - I want you to engage them as far out as you can. Take Francesca with you. Erica and Perrine will follow, and use tactical strikes to destroy whatever gets through. Eila and I will establish an airborne command center to provide coordination and support.

'There's going to be a lot of them, and we're missing a top ace - I expect all of you to contribute twice as much to make up for it!"

"YES MA'AM!" the witches shouted in unison - well, almost in unison. There was one 'ma'am' slightly out of time with the others. Commander Minna looked at Yoshika, who was standing so rigidly that even the brown tuft of her tail stood at attention.

"Miyafuji", the Commander said, making her tremble.

"Yes ma'am!"

"I want you and Bishop to establish a defensive perimeter inside our line, in case anything gets through. Fly in formation gunship. Yoshika, you'll provide cover and an extra set of eyes for Lynette. Lynette-"

"Ma'am!"

"If anything looks like it might get through our net, I want you to take it out. We'll signal for fire support if we see something get by us. Call out when engaging your targets - use Sakamoto's model. We don't want to get hit by any friendly fire - especially not one of your armor piercing rounds!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Good. Do you all understand your assignments?"

"YES MA'AM!"

"Excellent! Then I'll see you in the sky!"

The sirens sounded again as the witches formed up on the runway. Shirley and Francesca went first, as the Commander had ordered, followed by Erika and Perrine, and then the Commander herself and Eila. As she and Lynette were waiting, Yoshika looked over at the Thunder Strikers where they stood in the launch bay. She felt the glimmerings of an idea, but just then Lynette put her hand on her shoulder.

"Come on Yoshika, it's our turn. And besides, the Major's always telling us we're the most vulnerable when we're on the ground."

"Yeah, you're right . . .", Yoshika answered, looking back longingly.

"Get as much altitude as you can!" Minna's voice crackled over the radio. "We'll meet them just after they cross the Channel."

"Commander, are you able to get a reading?" Perrine asked.

"I'm picking up multiple waves. Mostly older craft - X-2's and X-3's, with a few heavier ships behind them - possibly X-10's, so be ready for surprises There seems to be a high altitude observation ship accompanying them - probably a reconnaissance craft. We're still waiting for visual confirmation. Shirley?"

"Not yet", the Liberian answered, "any second now."

Shirley's red hair wafted in the breeze, tangling in the sunset. With the sun behind her, it threw a deep shadow over her face. Looking down, she saw a faint glimmering above the clouds.

"There you are!", she chuckled, and doing a handstand in mid air, dove.

The Browning Automatic Rifle cycled slowly, making a 'chug-chug-chug' sound as it spat out the 30-.06 rounds, slinging the emptying casings to the side. The effect on the Neuroi was devastating - the first volley peeled away the metallic skin, the second blew away the honeycomb beneath, exposing the core, while the third round shattered it, leaving a huge, gaping hole where for a Neuroi what passed as its heart used to be. When she let off the trigger, she could see clean through to the sky on the other side.

"That's one!" she shouted, turning towards the Neuroi's wingmate. But the quick spray of the Browning stopped short, the slide locked back, the chamber open and smoking. If the BAR had a weakness, it was that it had never been fitted for a drum or belt feed. The 20 round box magazine was empty.

"Damnit!" Shirley shouted, drawing her Colt pistol. She began pumping .45s into the fleeing ship as fast as she could, only to watch each hole close one by one. The craft regenerated much too quickly for the pistol to keep up. By now the Neuroi realized that the volume of fire was greatly reduced. It ceased evasive actions, and began to turn, coming around for the attack.

The slide of the Colt locked back. It too was empty. Shirley turned with the Neuroi, knowing her only chance was to keep it out in front of her. She weighed her options. There was no time to reload her pistol or her rifle. In desperation, she reached for her Bowie knife.

"Shirley, use me!" a familiar voice crackled over the radio.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Francesca smiling her usual toothy grin.

"Boy am I glad to see you!"

"Then you can pay me back with your share of Yoshika's dinner!"

"We'll just see about that.

"Either way, you'd better be fast - they're almost here!"

"Oh, you'll go fast all right", Shirley said, taking hold of Francesca's wrists, and engaging her Strikers' supercharged Merlin engines. "Careful what you wish for - here - you - GO!"

"Whee!" Francesca shouted as she went whizzing towards the oncoming Neuroi ship.

For Francesca, there was nothing but a whistling sound, and the blue blur of the sky moving past as a purple wave formed out in front. She hooked one canine fang over her lip as she concentrated on focusing all of her magic at a point directly ahead of her. The glimmering purple wall deepened, then grew, spreading out around her, and trailing out behind like the tail of a comet, its rearward edges occasionally shedding a fragment of excess magical power.

She squinted, fighting to keep her eyes focused on the Neuroi as the whole universe seemed to shake. Sensing the danger, the Neuroi fired it's beam weapon, but the purple bolt glanced off, the tremendous half moon energy wave acting like an enormous shield.

"It'll take more than that", Fran taunted, crossing her arms in front of her. She took hold of the inner edges of the purple wall, and straining, tore it apart.

There followed a sky shattering explosion. It caught the Neuroi full force, destroying everything but the core, which was left floating free, out in space. Shouldering her rifle, Francesca put a prolonged burst right through it's midst.

"Ha!", she said, triumphantly as the core shattered, showing her fang again. "That's why they call us witches!"

"Heh, - not bad for a couple of amateurs", Erica taunted over the radio, as two Neuroi settled in behind her, "But let me show you how this is REALLY done -"

Stretching out her hands, she took hold of the wind flowing past. Keeping her grip on the sky, she began to roll, up and over. It was the beginning of her dreaded Sturm technique. She continued her roll, bending the wind around her, until she became a sideways tornado. The two Neuroi, who had both followed her into the funnel thinking she would be easy pickings, now found the walls closing in around them. They tried their best to evade, but the space between them continued to shrink, until, caught in the whirlwind, they smashed together beneath her.

As Erica rolled over the top again , the air around her filled with wreckage and debris. One of the Neuroi had been fitted with a rotating piece, similar to the propeller on her own Striker. Erica watched it pass just in front of her face, while a second piece came darting so close it hit her jacket, and became lodged in her chest pocket.

"Whoa!" Erica shouted, flapping her coat wildly in a desperate attempt to shake out the piece of burning metal. "That was too close!"

"Hmph!" Perrine snorted, holding up her chin. She reached out a single slender finger, causing a bolt of lightning to fall from the clouds, consuming a Neuroi as it passed.

"How distasteful!"

"Not bad", Commander Minna observed, looking through her binoculars more out of habit than out of necessity. "Together the four of them have managed to take out the first two waves."

"Ma'am?" Eila asked, seeing an approaching Neuroi ship.

Without looking up, the Commander, put up her hand and raised a shield to catch the incoming beam.

"Eila?" she asked, still studying with her binoculars as the beam crackled all around them.

"On it!" Eila answered, turning into a rolling dive, pursuing the Neuroi down into the clouds.

"You're a fast one, aren't you?" she said coldly, watching it move to avoid her tracers, darting from side to side as they tracked harmlessly through the empty sky.

Concentrating her powers, she could begin to see a trail of after images form beside the Neuroi, showing all of the places it had been, and predicting all of the places it might be. She braced her rifle against her shoulder, and closed one of her frost blue eyes. Slowly and methodically, she fired several rounds, watching the patterns change each time the Neuroi turned to evade. At every change in course, new lines of possibility were created, while others closed off and disappeared.

"Ha!", she shouted, firing several shots in rapid succession, anticipating each move from the last. With each shot, the number of possibilities grew fewer and fewer.

"And checkmate," she said, putting a final burst through the place where she knew the Neuroi would inevitably be. The hail of bullets strafed the Neuroi in a neat line, shattering its core, and shearing off its left wing. The ship collapsed, folding up on itself as it fell from the sky.

"Hartmann, report?", Commander Minna asked.

"Heh heh heh - like shooting fish in a barrel", Erica chuckled. "Boy is Trudy ever going to be sorry she missed this!"

"Perrine?"

"Two more. At the risk of agreeing with Lieutenant Hartmann, I'd have to say the Neuroi are a bit off their game today."

"This is too easy . . ." the Commander thought to herself. "It's almost like they're GIVING us something to shoot at . . ."

Just then, a Neuroi flying in close formation suddenly broke away from its wing mates and made a bee line directly towards her.

Without so much as a thought, Minna leaned back and brought up her rifle. The purple beam crackled for a moment against the wall of her shield, and then there was a hellish screech from the MG 42 as she returned fire.

Minna watched in a daze. Whenever she used her rifle, it gave her a momentary shock. Her powers of Spatial Awareness meant that she knew the exact positions of every object in the sky at every moment. When she used the MG 42, its tremendous rate of fire put so many bullets in the air at once - the effect was dazzling. For a moment all of them hung suspended, as time seemed to stand still. Then everything snapped back to normal, and they went zinging towards the target. Because she knew the final positions and trajectories of each round right up until the moment they buried themselves into the Neuroi and became one with it, she could almost feel the impact.

The MG had done it's work. The Neuroi dropped amid a series of explosions, letting out a terrible sound that for all its alien qualities still sounded remarkably like a scream. Minna watched it fall, trailing bits of its shattered core. In the sunset, they sparkled like diamonds.

"They're like Witches in that respect", she thought to herself. "They're beautiful when they die . . ."

Her reflections were interrupted by a purple streak that came hurtling down from above, through the midst of the battlefield, on its way to the ground below. It was so large that it evaporated the clouds as it passed through them, leaving a vast blue chasm. For a moment it lighted on the ground, then began to move, carving it's way northward, severing a forest road.

"Where the hell did that beam come from!?"

"It came from the observation ship!" Perrine shouted. "Hasn't anyone been able to knock that thing down yet!?"

"No ma'am", Shirley replied. "Fran and I tried to make a run at it, but it was too far up, even for Merlin."

"Have Lynette use her long range attack! She'll need to gain as much altitude as possible before taking the shot. Miyafuji, cover her!"

"Yes ma'am!" Yoshika and Lynette shouted.

"I'm counting on the two of you!"

"Come on Lynette, the Commander said it was up to us!" Yoshika called, as they both leaned back into a steep climb. They rose higher and higher, up through the clouds, and then another layer of faint, hanging mist.

When they'd reached the limit of how far their Strikers could carry them, they throttled back, and sat floating in the air.

"It's so far away . . ." Yoshika said breathlessly, looking at the alien craft high above.

Lynette shouldered her rifle, then leaped to the side, forced to dodge as a beam from the Neuroi ship parted the air just in front of her.

"Sorry!" Yoshika apologized, moving forward and raising her shield to catch another incoming blast.

"Don't mention it!", Lynette said, shouldering her rifle again and taking aim. "I'm going to need a couple of moments to charge my shot. Can you hold out that long?"

"No problem!"

Lynette squinted, adjusting her aim, then began to concentrate all of her magical energy into the bullet held waiting in the rifle's chamber. As it took on her power, it began to glow, until the entire back half of her rifle emitted a faint purple gleam.

"Now!" Lynette shouted, breathing out as she pulled the trigger.

The explosion released the bullet from it's shell, mushrooming out as it engaged the rifled walls of barrel. The charged lead took hold of the spiral grooves, which imparted a spin as it left the muzzle. Yoshika watched as the purple streak tore out of the mouth of Lynette's rifle, hurtling upwards with a force that seemed utterly unstoppable. It flew farther and straighter than a shot from any normal marksman ever could.

"It's going to make it!" Yoshika thought.

But just as the Neuroi seemed on the verge of certain destruction, Yoshika watched as the purple light began to glimmer, then broke up in the upper reaches of the atmosphere, falling on the Neuroi as harmlessly as an errant ray from the setting sun.

"Report?" the Commander asked.

"It's no good - it's too high even for Lynette!"

"Bishop, you have to make the shot - no one else can!"

"Lynette, are you sure you can't get more range? My shield is holding up - I can buy us more time."

Lynette shook her head.

"I put everything I had into that one. It's just too - whoa!" she shouted, diving for cover as the Neuroi released another super massive blast.

Commander Minna studied it thoughtfully, letting her mind expand to take in the targets below.

"A road in Kennchester forest - telegraph lines at Hawkesby - portions of the power grid at Skye Park - none of these are strategic, or high value targets . . ." she thought, staring at the ship far away in the outer reaches of the sky. And then her mind was filled with a terrible thought.

"Commander, what is it?" Eila asked, seeing a shadow come over her face.

"I know it's target", she answered grimly. "It's heading for the Cauldron."

For a moment, all was silent.

"What should we do?" Perrine asked.

Eila watched the shadow on Minna's face darken.

" . . . Continue engaging targets. We don't want them to know we've guessed their plans. And we still have to protect London."

"Understood."

"Mio", she said to herself, "Where are you . . ?"

Yoshika and Lynette watched the setting sun. As the orange disc sank lower, the deepening shadows seemed to invade their mood.

"Grr - stupid Neuroi!" Yoshika shouted, seeing a ship out of the corner of her eye off to the side down below. She turned into a dive, intent on surprising it by gaining speed for altitude.

But from her vantage point, Lynette could see another Neuroi, following some ways behind. It was further back than usual, but from the way it was positioned, she could tell it was keeping formation with the lead ship.

"Yoshika, don't!" she shouted, trying to get her friend's attention. "It's a -"

The first Neuroi turned and broke, anticipating the attack.

" . . .trap . . ." Lynette said. Too late, Yoshika looked over her shoulder, and saw the second ship settling in behind her.

"Lynette, help!" she shouted, zigging and zagging from side to side as the purple beams flashed all around her.

"I can't get a clear shot! I don't want to risk hitting you!" she shouted, feeling sick from seeing her friend dance through her gun sights.

Yoshika tried to dive further in and effort to gain extra speed to outrun the Neuroi, and get far enough ahead to turn into it, but it was no good; the enemy ship continued to turn with her.

"Hurry!", she shouted, as one of the beams narrowly missed slicing off her ear.

"I'm trying!"

The Neuroi released a hail of beams. There was no time, not even to turn and raise a shield. She could both hear and feel them now - making the air crackle, and her hair singe. There was one just off her shoulder, then another, just by her neck, so close that though it didn't hit her, the super heated air burned her skin. Involuntarily she closed her eyes, grimacing with certainty that the next beam would pass right through her head.

"HYAHHH!"

A familiar, deafening cry filled her ears as it came through the radio. Major Sakamoto came diving, out of the setting sun, her aerial cannon blazing. The Neuroi turned, but had no time to evade. In her rage, the Major emptied the drum of the Type 99. The core shattered, but still she did not let up, putting every last round into the Neuroi, even after it had begun to fall.

"Major Sakamoto!" Yoshika shouted with admiration. But Sakamoto's words were harsh.

"MIYAFUJI! I thought I told you NEVER to give your back to an enemy!?"

"But - but - I didn't mean to - it happened so fast - I'm so sorry!" Yoshika pleaded, as her eyes began to tear up.

"Are you all right?" Sakamoto asked more softly.

"Yes . . ." Yoshika said, her face brightening.

"Then that's good enough", the Major said, making Yoshika's ears perk back up. Sakamoto turned, and settled into formation with the Commander.

"Mio! Boy am I glad to see you."

"What's our situation?"

"Not good. We've got an extremely high altitude Neuroi ship mounting a beam weapon powerful enough to cut through an entire city block, and all indications are that it's targeting The Cauldron."

"I see", the Major said grimly, lifting her eye patch to gaze up at the ship so far away.

"Can you locate the core?"

The Major squinted.

"Gyah!"

"What is it?"

"It's a moving core type!"

Minna frowned.

"Not that it matters at this point. We don't have anything operational that can reach that high."

"Leave that to me. Eila, it's far, but can you sense the core for me?"

Eila closed her eyes, focusing first on the Neuroi ship, and then on the Major, seeing what she was about to see.

"It has a very complicated pattern. I'll need time to study it."

"You've got five minutes."

"I get it!" Yoshika beamed. "You're going to have Eila predict where the core's going to be, and then time your shot with her magic!"

"Something like that", the Major said, reaching over her shoulder and drawing her sword. "But I won't be taking a shot. I plan on getting much closer."

"But how?" the Commander asked. "All of the boosters we have were used up in a previous mission. We don't have any left, and our conventional Strikers can't fly that high."

Sakamoto studied the wave pattern along her sword's edge for a moment, then returned it to her sheath.

"No, they don't. But the Thunder Strikers do."

"Ma'am - you can't" the guards shouted, as Sakamoto ran across the hanger floor and up the stairs to launch bay. "It's against regulations!"

"REGULATIONS BE DAMNED!" she shouted, leaping from the platform. As she jumped, she sent one shoe flying off to either side, then plunged her feet and legs into the waiting Strikers.

At once the Thunder Strikers roared to life. The effect was immediate - Sakamoto arched her back, straining as her eyes opened wider and her tail stood on end. It was as if she could feel her very life flowing out through her feet.

"Mio, are you alright?" the Commander's voice crackled in the radio.

". . . I'll be fine."

"Everyone, support the Major in her attack!"

"YES MA'AM!"

"Lynette, lay down some suppressive fire! Yoshika, cover her!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Lynette took aim, then loosed all five rounds from her Boyds anti-tank rifle, working the bolt in rapid succession as she sent each shot along the route the Major would take.

"Got it!" Yoshika shouted, raising a shield over them both as the Neuroi returned fire.

"Erica, Perrine, clear a path!"

"Ma'am!" Erica answered, turning herself into a human tornado that swept all of the nearby ships aside, as Perrine set the clouds alight with a sudden storm.

"Francesca and Shirley - do whatever you can!"

"Yes ma'am!" Shirley said, taking hold of Francesca, and tossing her headlong into the clouds, clearing their upper reaches of any remaining Neuroi ships.

Looking down, Shirley could see the Major rising like a speeding bullet. Putting her arms at her sides, she opened the throttle, engaging both stages of the Merlin's super chargers. For a moment, she and the Major flew in formation together, before the massive speed of the Thunder Striker sent Sakamoto roaring out ahead.

"Yahoo!"

"Eila?" Sakamoto asked calmly , grimacing against the wind.

"I can almost see it - there! It's going to be in the starboard side, in the tail!"

But as Eila was making her predictions, the Neuroi had been making some calculations of its own. It took in the motions of each of the small figures as they darted back and forth among the clouds, as well as the lone white figure rising from below. Charging it's beam, it sent a solid purple streak down towards the ground.

"Oh no you don't!"

Without making any effort to evade, the Major drew her sword, and flew directly into the attack. As she stabbed into the purple bolt, the swords tip acted as a prism, making the beam spray out all around her.

"H-Y-A-A-A-A-A-H-H-H-H-H-H-H !"

There was a sense of brief resistance as the sword met with the ship's outer skin.

Then the strange, honeycombed texture that the insides of the Neuroi are made of.

And then a tingling, like the breaking of glass, as the sword's tip passed through the core.

And then all of these same sensations again, this time in reverse.

In the instant it took to comprehend it, the moment was over. Throttling back, Major Sakamoto looked over her shoulder, seeing a sharp line through the body of the Neuroi rimmed with explosions, marking the path where her sword had been. Slowly it began to nose over, rolling headlong into a fatal dive.

"She got it!" Lynette and Yoshika shouted.

"Woo-hoo!"

The Major Sakamoto examined the edge of her sword, then returned it to its sheath. She took one more look at the vanquished Neuroi. The trailing bits of the shattered core glimmered like frost on a winter night. Then she turned her eyes to the setting sun. The sky was almost dark now, the orange disc has almost disappeared below the horizon.

"A witch's powers don't last forever", she thought. And then a smile crossed her face, and the beginnings of an idea. "I've been spending entirely too much time around Miyafuji", she said to herself, as she settled into a turning dive. With only a slight bit of encouragement, the Thunder Strikers roared, filling the sky with a sonic boom.

The unexpected rumble made all of the witches look up, and cheer.

"YAHOO!" Shirley shouted her approval, as Yoshika and Lynette hollered and waved.

"Witches, this is your Commander speaking", Minna's voice came through clearly on the radio, "The remaining Neuroi have broken off. Return to base!"

Commander Minna sat in her study, sipping her coffee. It was a habit she'd picked up from Shirley, though she'd taken to having it in the evenings, after dinner, in the Continental fashion, rather than in the morning, as the Liberians do. She liked it better than the Britanian tea. It was coarse and rough. The coffee on the base always seemed to have a flavor that was something like used motor oil. It suited her just fine - though she did occasionally soften it with a bit of sugar, or perhaps a few drops of cream.

She was drinking from a particularly fine piece of Wedgewood - part of an old set. It was what the maids had brought; the Commander herself had little time or interest for such things, though she did admire the sense of workmanship.

"Perrine probably knows a great deal about this sort of thing", she thought to herself. "Or maybe Lynette. She does have a hint of the domestic . . ."

The walls of the cup were so thin, and the porcelain had a depth to its sheen that subtly belied its pale white color.

"Such is the ludicrousity of war", she thought to herself, that she could sit here in her study, with its wood panel walls and the soft glow of the lamps, and drink coffee out of fine china, so far removed from the roar of engines and the flashing Neuroi beams from earlier that day.

She kept her study in a mild state of disarray. Nothing so drastic as to be called a mess - it was just that her power of Spatial Awareness meant that she could feel every inch of the room at all times. It started to wear on her if things were too neat and rigid. She found a bit of clutter more relaxing.

"Mio, you're so lucky", she thought to herself. "It must be nice to cover your magic eye for a while, and turn off your gift."

Her own gift was never off. Without looking, she knew the exact position of the pitcher and the cup as she poured the cream. Without wanting to know, she knew the exact position of each white drop as it disappeared beneath the surface, blending out into a tangled blur, like the con trails of a developing dog fight.

At night, sometimes she woke up, feeling the walls of her room.

Could Mio really shut it all out just by covering her magic eye?

"Or maybe she just pretends", Minna thought.

To pretend not to see - that was something she knew a great deal about.

Maybe Mio could see right through the eye patch.

A portable typewriter stood at one corner of the desk - she was aware of THAT at all times, too. It was a clever contraption, made for stenographers and journalists. Everything fit into one little box, so that it could go anywhere. But that was the problem - it DID go anywhere. It followed her - into meetings, in the car, in her bedroom, and on leave. Twice now she had tried to forget it, once in a car, and once on a train, but both times it had been remembered, first by Mio, and then by Erica - drat them for being so conscientious.

"I suppose there's nothing else for it", she thought, and so, with a sigh, Commander Minna, who had never once surrendered in the field, admitted defeat, and put her hands on the keys.

The halting sound of the key strokes had a broken rhythm to it that was almost musical, and would not have been disagreeable, had it not reminded her faintly of the sounds of far off machine gun fire, or artillery in the distance.

" . . . so far, the Neuroi's campaigns against Britannia have been relatively inconsistent. Whether this represents a lack of strategic focus, disagreement within the Neuroi command, or a series of probing events is uncertain. Our knowledge of Neuroi thought processes, and their command and control structure, is much too limited to make these kinds of assumptions . . .

" . . . from the attack on Poland through the fall of Gallia, the Neuroi enjoyed spectacular success, which caused some to fear that the Neuroi may be invulnerable. Similar gains in the Pacific, and the stunning attack on United States of Liberion bolstered this image. However, during this time, the air arm of the Neuroi forces was working in a close ground support role. The goal of operation Sea Lion, however, seems to have been to establish air superiority in preparation for a cross Channel amphibious invasion . . .

" . . . until now, the Neuroi have used a variety of tactics, including open raids, and small scale attacks on diverse targets, including coastal installations, shipping yards, air bases, and major cities, in an apparent terror campaign. They do not seem to appreciate the importance of the Chain Home system, or integrated air defense. Most of their efforts involved light to medium bombing, and lacked a strategic focus . . ."

She was still typing when a car pulled up in the circle out front. She both sensed and heard the car door being opened, and closed, then the opening of the front door, and the footsteps in the hall. A familiar presence filled the doorway of the study.

"How was your trip?" she asked, without looking up.

The question caught Mio off guard, catching her just as she was about to speak. For a moment she did not know what to say. Then she broke out into her usual laugh.

"Oh - ho - ho! No one will ever be able to sneak up on you."

"Sneaking isn't something you would do. You prefer the direct approach."

"I suppose you're right. The trip was terrible. I hate long car rides. But it was good to see the men from Fuso again."

In the soft light, Mio's white coat picked up the yellow glow of the lamps. She held her sword in her left hand. She had always kept it with her, but ever since she'd lost the ability to generate a shield, she seemed to hold it even closer, rarely letting it be outside of physical contact with some part of her body.

"I didn't know you wore spectacles?"

"I don't", Minna said, taking off her reading glasses "Or at least I didn't, until Command started insisting on such detailed reports of every single thing. At this rate, I think I'm just one report away from needing bifocals . . ." She set her glasses on the table, and rubbed her eyes. "

"Maybe they'll give you a purple heart . . ." Mio joked amiably.

"Only if they get worse during combat."

"Oh - ho - ho!" Mio laughed again. "You never got to tell me how this morning's test flight went?"

"Not nearly as exciting as your flight this afternoon," Minna chuckled. "The Thunder Striker has some of the same problems of energy consumption as the Violet Lightning. But they're much more manageable. And the vertical take off and landing presents interesting possibilities - in time they might be able to do away with air fields all together. There are adjustments, of course. But I really think we might be seeing the future."

"The future", Mio considered, looking at the papers on the desk. A brown leather portfolio caught her eye. It was a very expensive item, with gold lettering, and brass bolsters at each corner. The pages inside were all printed on thick, high quality parchment paper.

"LAND", she read aloud. "Life After the Neuroi Defeat . . ."

"It's a propaganda campaign. Command is very excited about it. They think it will boost civilian morale for the war effort to imagine how a world without the Neuroi might be. They're planning to hold expos in Britania, as well as Liberion and Fuso."

Mio flipped through the pages, filled with rosy illustrations of smiling people in a variety of settings, designed to show the advances that would theoretically come from the development of the technology used to fight the Neuroi. There were depictions of homes and schools and factories, all perfectly neat and clean, and filled with various modern gadgetry, some real, some imagined. One scene showed a utopian cityscape, with tall, orderly buildings, and massive park lined freeways, complete with three vertical lanes of flying cars.

"Seems a bit optimistic", she said candidly.

Minna got up from her chair, and turned to look out the window. The night air was cool and damp, bringing up a wonderful smell from the old wooden sash. She could feel a hint of chill through the panes of glass.

Outside, the lights were beginning to go out. Things were better now. There was radar, and Sanya could even detect the Neuroi's movements on the other side of the Channel. It had improved to the point that when no special alerts were in effect, Strategic Air Command allowed a one hour grace period after sunset. But after that there still came the nightly black out. Minna watched the lights wink out, one by one.

"We've been fighting for so long . . ." she said, watching an elderly gentleman in an old cottage engaged in the act of physically putting out an oil lamp. It was a rare sight these days, though at one time it must have been very common.

"A world without the Neuroi . . . Do you really think it's possible . . ?"

Mio turned to face the window, the blue light frosting her face.

"I don't know . . ."

BONUS !

Omake # 1 "Alphabet Soup"

Commander Minne: . . .and that concludes today's briefing. Ladies, any other business?

Trudy: Yes, I'd like to propose we amend our radio communications guidelines to replace the term "Time In Theater" to "Time Over Target".

Commander Minne: I'm not opposed, but is there a particular reason for the suggested change?

Trudy: It's a question of acronyms, ma'am.

Commander Minne: Acronyms?

Trudy: Ahem - abbreviations. Would you really like us to be calling out regarding our TITs over the radio?

All: (general chuckle)

Commander Minne: I can see your point . . .

Francesca: (laughing hysterically) I can see it now - "Eagle to Nest, this is Officer Lucchini reporting in . . ."

Commander Minne: Fran -

Francesca: ". . . Yeager and Clostermann are with me, and the objective is in sight . . ."

Commander Minne: (more sternly) Francesca -

Francesca: ". . . and we've got seven TITS over the target!"

Commander Minne: PILOT OFFICER FRANCESCA LUCCHINI !

Mio: Wait - how do you get seven breasts from three girls?

Yeager: Yeah - it's an odd number.

Commander Minne: (sighs in defeat) . . . . .

Francesca: Easy! Shirley's are so big, they each count for two, so that makes four. And mine make five and six. But Perrine's are so small, you have to add both of them together just to get one -

Perrine: WHY YOU DIRTY LITTLE -

Francesca: (while running) Heh heh heh heh, next time on "Stars In Another Sky", we get to see what Perrine does on her day off. I'll bet it's something dirty -

Perrine: LUCCHINI !

Commander Minne: . . .dismissed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - "Flying Officer Clostermann's Weekend Pass"

The skies over Britannia were unusually quiet. For a country known for spending so much of the year covered with fog and rain, this was one of those rare, blue sky days. The wind was gentle, and mild - little more than the occasional breeze, and the clouds - what clouds there were - were light and fluffy, seeming to float on the horizon, like ships at anchor in the great port of the sky. Even the North Sea, usually so violent and treacherous, was unusually calm and well tempered that morning. The steady drone of the Strikers' engines seemed more like a lullaby, and not the call of war. Miyafuji thought for a moment she might be lulled off to sleep.

"ALL RIGHT LADIES! LISTEN UP! Today's maneuver is called the Split S!"

Major Sakamoto's voice exploded through the radio. She shouted, partly to be heard over the roar of the engines, and partly because shouting was simply Major Sakamoto's way of expressing her enthusiasm. And when it came to morning flying exercises (or afternoon exercises - or evening exercises - or random, middle of the night, 2 AM because you never know when the Neuroi might try to catch you sleeping exercises) the Major was always VERY enthusiastic.

"The Split S is a GREAT way to change directions quickly, and to attack an enemy below you. You also gain a considerable amount of SPEED. Because you GAIN that speed by trading altitude in a DIVE, you have to make sure you have enough ALTITUDE to begin with. Otherwise, you won't be able to pull up, and will fly straight into the ground, and Commander Wilcke and I will be boxing up your personal effects to ship them back home to your next of kin . . ."

Yoshika and Lynnette shivered. Erica yawned.

"To perform the Split S - once you're sure you have enough altitude - the first thing you have to do is roll. Pull up slightly, then perform a half roll, so that you're flying upside down. Then pull up more sharply, as if you're going into a climb - but because you're flying upside down, you'll actually be pulling down into a dive. Remember to look first - lead with your eyes. You want to see where you're going before you get there.

'You'll gain speed very quickly in the dive. Be careful you don't go TOO fast - if you go supersonic - Shirley -" the Major added with a warning glance to the red headed Liberian, "You'll suffer compression. Your control surfaces won't work, and you won't be able to pull out."

Shirley grinned mischievously.

"As you come to the bottom of the loop, pull up gradually, until you settle back into level flight again. You'll be right side up again, at a lower altitude, and going the opposite way. You'll also be going considerably FASTER than when you started. Any questions?"

Erica put up her hand.

"Yes, Hartmann?"

"Can we go back to sleep now?"

"Hartmann, are you mocking me!?"

"No ma'am. I was being serious."

Sakamoto shook her head.

"Any REAL questions?"

Yoshika and Lynnette exchanged a look, then both shook their heads. "NO MA'AM!"

"Good! I'll demonstrate."

Major Sakamoto leaned forward and headed out several hundred yards. When she'd gone far enough, she rolled over, onto her back, and then, arching her spine, leaned back into a dive. Her striker engines roared with the sudden acceleration as she dove straight down.

"Oh!" Yoshika said, amazed. "She's so graceful!" In her white coat, Sakamoto looked like a swan, swimming in a sea of blue sky.

Nearing the bottom, she arched her back again, and looking up, settled back into level flight. Finishing her half loop, she pulled up again, and rolling over into a quick Immelmann turn, hopped out of her climb to stand hovering beside Yoshika and Lynnette.

"Any questions?" she asked again, putting her feet underneath her and treading the sky.

"No Ma'am!"

"Good. The other ladies of the 501st have established a traffic pattern below you. Now take up your positions. Miyafuji, you'll go first. On my wing!"

"Ma'am!" Yoshika shouted again, falling into place beside her. They flew out for some distance, the wind at their heels hurrying them along. When they got to their usual marker - a clump of trees on the ground below with an unusual shape - they turned against the wind, to fly across it, making a giant rectangle in the sky. Perrine and Lynnette trailed them, about a thousand yards behind. Far below, Erica, Shirley, and Francesca were flying the same pattern, but in the opposite direction. Commander Wilcke and Eila hovered off to the side, observing the exercise.

"Hartmann will be your target", the Major said, as they turned again, this time to face the wind. Yoshika could see the distant black blip of Erica's jacket as she turned, and began to grow steadily larger as the distance closed between them. Erica had the wind at her back now, and they were flying in opposite directions, all of which made the gap between them disappear with alarming speed.

As she watched, Yoshika could see the silver gleam on each of Erica's shoulders resolve into a pair of epaulettes. As her vision became sharper, she could make out the details of her rank and insignia, the line of her collar, the cowling around the intakes and exhausts for each of her Strikers, even the strands of her loose blonde hair billowing in the wind. She seemed to get faster and faster as the distance between them grew shorter, until suddenly, Erica went whizzing by underneath.

"There she is! Miyafuji - DIVE!"

Without thinking, Yoshika rolled over, onto her back, and putting her hands over her head, reached behind her, until the clouds rolled away, and she slid into a dive.

Immediately her engines roared, and the once gentle breeze became a torrent, stinging her cheeks and making tears stream from the corners of her eyes. Putting her hands in front of her face, she parted the wind, in the same way an earthly diver breaks the surface of the water with her hands before impact. She could see again, and as she looked at the sun shining down from above the clouds, and the green grass below, her fear was replaced with exhilaration.

"Whee!" she shouted, feeling the wind catch her ears and tail. Arching her back again to look up, she caught sight of Hartmann, out in front of her. The speed she'd gained in the dive allowed her to catch up easily, and with a giggle she settled into the six o'clock position, directly behind her. Hartmann looked back over her shoulder, and gave a small nod of approval.

"Miyafuji!" the Major barked, making her own dive to join them, "This isn't some kind of amusement park ride! This is WAR!"

"Yes ma'am . . . Yoshika said, hanging her head glumly.

Sakamoto settled in beside her. Looking over, Yoshika could see that her eye was beaming.

"It IS a lot of fun, though, isn't it?" the Major asked, her eye patch forever giving a good natured wink.

"Yes Ma'am!" Yoshika beamed, as Sakamoto climbed again to rejoin Lynette and Perrine.

It was not lost on Hartmann, the 501st's resident Ultra Ace, with the highest number of aerial victories that Yoshika, a young Sergeant, had just settled into her kill zone. She would have none of it.

Spreading her arms to either side, Erica made a slow, spiraling roll. It was the beginning of her dreaded Sturm technique. Yoshika watched as Erica rolled up and over, catching the wind with her fingers, causing a small whirlwind to form. When she was directly overheard, Erica looked down at her, and stuck out her tongue. Yoshika watched her, wide eyed, as the Ultra Ace snapped off to the other side, and shedding speed, dropped back to settle in directly behind her. A gust billowed past, making Yoshika laugh as she fought to regain her course.

"All right you two, that's enough", Commander Wilcke's voice broke in over the radio.

Major Sakamoto finished her climb, then settled in behind Lynette and Perrine.

"Now it's your turn, Bishop. Clostermann will give the word. On her mark."

"Ma'am!" Perrine acknowledged her assignment, and adjusted her spectacles to scan the horizon. "Lucchini will be the target."

"Um - yes! I mean ma'am! I mean yes ma'am!" Lynette said shakily.

Francesca acknowledged her role by waving, and sticking out her tongue. Perrine scowled.

"Wait for my command", she said, as Lucchini turned to face them, her white jacket making her easy to spot.

Lynette watched nervously as the details of Francesca's face and uniform came into sharper view.

"Bishop, you can do this", the Commander said gently through the radio, "Just remember - up, over, and dive. That's all you have to do."

"Up - over - and dive - got it. Thank you ma'am!"

"You'll be fine."

"Up - over - and dive . . ." Lynette repeated to herself. "Up - over - and dive . . ."

Perrine looked at her doubtfully, then back to Lucchini, who by now was fast approaching. She watched as the blue bow around her neck came into focus, along with the two white ribbons that shaped her hair into a pair of long, twin tails that spread out to either side.

"Up - over - and dive . . ."

"There she is -"

"Up - over - and dive . . ."

By now, Perrine could clearly see the lone canine fang hooked over Francesca's lip in her usual toothy grin.

"Now Lynette!"

"Up - over - and dive . . ."

"Bishop! Go - Go - GO!" the Major Sakamoto shouted her encouragement.

Francesca rolled onto her back and waved to Lynette as she shot past underneath.

"Up - over - and dive . . . Up - over - and dive . . . I can do this!" Lynette shouted. "Up!" she barked, raising her chin, "Over!" she said, closing her eyes and beginning her roll.

"Bishop, you're -"

"And DIVE!" she shouted, pulling up into what she *thought* was a dive.

"BISHOP!"

Lynette couldn't figure out what was wrong. Her engines, which should have been roaring, throttled back to a thin whisper, which barely kept her aloft. Instead of a rush of speed, she felt herself slowing down, until she seemed to float weightless in the air. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but blue sky and white tufts of cloud dreamily suspended before her. The ground, which should have been right in front of her, was nowhere to be seen. In her ear, a familiar yet distant voice crackled,

"Bishop!"

The Major's voice was a far off echo, like the sound of the waves in a sea shell.

"What?"

"Bishop - you're going to stall -"

Looking over her shoulder, Lynette suddenly found the ground behind and beneath her. She could feel herself go weightless for a moment, as she began to drop out of the sky.

"BISHOP! YOU'RE GOING TO STALL!"

The Major's voice exploded in her ears, like an engine punched to full throttle. In her haste, instead of making a half roll, Lynette had turned a full 360 degrees. When she pulled up, instead of going into a steep dive, she'd launched into a vertical climb, and now, at the peak, her Strikers had carried her as high as they were able, and she began to plummet back to earth.

"WAUGHHH!" Lynette screamed, flailing her arms as she saw the ground begin to rush towards her.

"Pull up!"

"I can't!"

"I SAID PULL UP!"

"Lynn", the Commander's voice broke in calmly, "Just lean back."

"But I -"

"Don't panic. Just lean back and keep pulling up."

Somehow, between the Major's shouting and the Commander's calm reassurances, the two of them managed to strike the right chord. Lynette arched her back, and like a pole-vaulter passing over the bar, she made an undignified 'flop!' Putting her legs above her, she slid headfirst into a dive.

"WHAAA - " she screamed as her starved engines roared to life.

"Keep pulling!"

" - AAAHHHH!"

As Lynette slid down the backside of the loop, her breasts caught the wind, and became a giant pair of air brakes, bouncing and heaving wildly under her sweater.

"AH-AH-AH-AH!"

"Oww!" Shirley winced, turning away from the painful scene.

"I HATE it when that happens", Barkhorn agreed.

Even the normally stoic major wrinkled her brow in sympathy.

"That was the very reason I started binding myself again . . ."

"Ow", Perrine chimed in, putting her arm over her chest.

"What are *you* complaining for", Francesca said mischievously. "It's not like that's a problem you're ever going to have."

"Why you!"

Mercifully, as Lynnette pulled back up into level flight, the bouncing and heaving ceased.

"Whew!"

"Congratulations, Bishop. That was a near perfect loop over. Unfortunately, today's maneuver was SUPPOSED to be a split S."

"Yes ma'm, I - I'm sorry, I - I'm . . . sorry . . ." Lynette said, hanging her head in defeat.

"That's enough for one day", the Commander's voice crackled again. "Major Sakamoto, will you please direct our birds back to the nest?"

"Affirmative. Ladies, use approach pattern Delta. And while we're up here, let's use this opportunity to practice a short field landing - you never know when the Neuroi might cause you to have to put down in unfamiliar territory."

"Yes MA'AM!" the entire 501st shouted in unison.

"Mio, you slave driver", Minna chucked, handing the binoculars to Eila. "Then again, that's what makes you so good at what you do. And it spares me from having to do it myself", she chuckled again. "Come on, Eila, we could use the practice too", she said, and turned to join the rest of the group.

Erica made the first approach. She descended with a very steep slope, before flaring sharply at the last moment, pulling up out of the near dive to land gently in the middle of the runway. Barkhorn went next, with Perrine, Shirley, and Fran following after. Lynette trailed to the back, drifting listlessly with both arms hanging below her.

"Ohh", she groaned in a small whimper.

"Don't be so hard on yourself", Yoshika said, doing her best to cheer her up. "The Major said it was a nearly perfect loop over."

"Indeed it was", the Commander added, settling into formation behind them, "But I'd suggest you might want to button your coat first before trying it again", she teased.

Lynette managed a smile.

"In combat, things never go perfectly. Very often, it's your ability to adapt to your own mistake that makes the difference between victory and defeat. You had a valuable lesson today, and it was one even the Major and I couldn't have planned. Don't miss a chance to learn from it."

"Yes ma'am!" Lynette said, feeling a little more confident. She made her dive, and pulled up without incident, dropping out of the flare so smoothly that she ended up walking down the runway. With two quick movements she stepped out of her Strikers, and picking them up, started to make her way back to the hangar.

"See?" Yoshika demanded. "That was a great landing!"

"Yeah", Lynette sighed. "I can do the basic stuff. But I always choke up when it really counts."

"I never take a safe landing for granted", Minna chided gently.

"Enough already", Francesca pouted. "Let's talk about something REALLY important - like what we're going to have for LUNCH!"

"Lunch!?" Lynette shouted. "But you just had breakfast!"

"Oh!" Yoshika said, holding her stomach. "Those scones were delicious!"

"Oh - ho - ho! That they were", the Major agreed. "They were a perfect, light meal before a morning of exercises!"

"Sergeant Bishop", the Commander said with an air of great formality, "So far your week on kitchen duty has been a tremendous success. Any thoughts on what tomorrow's menu might be?"

"Hmm," Lynette said, considering, "For tomorrow, since we don't have any morning exercises, I was thinking of going with something a little heavier, and making pancakes."

"All right!" Shirley cut in.

"Ho - ho - ho!" the Major heartily agreed. "Sounds good!"

"Oh!" Fran pouted again. "Can't we just make Yoshika be on kitchen duty every week?"

"That wouldn't be fair."

"Actually I wouldn't mind. I really enjoy working in the kitchen. But it is nice to have a break every once in a while."

"Speaking of breaks", the Commander said, "That reminds me - since Perrine won the lottery for the pass this weekend, Mio will need to designate someone else to help her with tomorrow afternoon's exercises."

"Hmm, I suppose I will."

"Aww", Fran said, continuing her whining, "How come *I* never get a weekend pass? I think Perrine rigged the whole thing!"

"I did not! Come here you little -"

"Let's see", the Commander said, pretending the scuffle between Perrine and Francesca in the background wasn't happening. "Eila will be going back on the night patrol - how about Hartmann?"

"Hartmann!?" Barkhorn shouted in disbelief. "Erica can't even discipline herself - there's no way she can discipline the rest of us!"

"I'm right here, you know."

"Hmm", Sakamoto thought. "Sometimes learning how to instruct others can teach you the most about how to discipline yourself."

"Um, I said I'm right here - "

"That's true", the Commander agreed. "And she has been getting sloppy -"

"Hello?"

"And her count has been slipping", Mio added.

"And her room is a mess!" Francesca shouted as Perrine pulled her hair.

"What have you been doing in my room!?"

"Hartmann it is!" Mio decided.

"Ugh! Fine! I give up! I'll do it."

"Excellent", the Commander concluded, "Ladies", she said, causing Perrine and Francesca to look up from their scuffle, "That will be all for now. Dismissed!"

That next morning came, as mornings always do. There must have been something unusual happening in the world at that time - it was almost unheard of for Britannia to have two bright, blue mornings in a row. But have them it did. Yoshika took advantage of the opportunity to catch up on the laundry for the base, hanging the sheets out on a line, where their square shapes looked like a line of abstract clouds against a sky that shone impossibly blue. Lynette was busy in the kitchen.

Commander Minna used the bright morning to catch up on the unit's paperwork. Facts and figures always look less menacing in the morning, and happily she found that with her desk near the open window, it was bright enough to work on her reports without needing her reading glasses.

Shirley was busy in the garage, rebuilding one of her Striker's Merlin engines to test an improvement that would let the supercharger use higher octane fuel. Francesca was busy trying to pretend she knew what a supercharger was, after Shirley had explained it for the third time.

Sanya was completing a night mission debriefing at what was the end of her day, and Eila was trying to make herself go to sleep in an effort to adjust to being on the night patrol again. (It wasn't working.)

Barkhorn was fighting with Erica in an effort to make her get up, and Erica was fighting with Barkhorn in an effort to stay asleep - and neither of them were winning. And the Major - Major Sakamoto had gotten up before everyone else. By the time anyone stirred, she had already run five miles, done 1000 sit ups, 200 pushups, taken a light jog to cool down, practiced her sword strikes 1000 times, and been through the entire series of Seiran Iai kata - twice. As a courtesy to the other members on the base, she waited until 0730 hours to begin practicing her shooting. She felt a bit guilty for taking it so easy that morning, but it was a weekend, after all.

But there was one person who remained blissfully unaware of all of this. On that particular morning, Flying Officer Perrine Clostermann stayed in bed. It had been so long since she had gotten to sleep in that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. To go to bed at night, knowing that she did not have anything she had to do, or anywhere she had to be that next morning - it was heaven. All night long, her bed seemed to be made of fluffy white clouds, and she slept, wrapped in their warmth, until the morning came. And when the morning came, she slept some more.

At the first hint of light, she sank dreamily to the bottom of her pillow, and piled up the covers to build a wall against the impending dawn. The great Gallian monarch, Louis XIV, may have been known as the Sun King, but this daughter of Gallia wanted nothing to do with the glowing yellow orb. As the dawn grew brighter, she rolled to face away from the window, cursing for having forgotten to draw the shade. On normal mornings, she got up too early for it to be of any consequence.

The sun rose higher still. For a time she was able to sleep comfortably by crawling halfway up on top of the pillows, and burying her face in the corner of the bed curtains. That worked tolerably well, but eventually, the sun redoubled, and put all its efforts into one final attack. Focusing its rays, it shot through a gap between the wall and the draperies, and with an arc reminiscent of a Neuroi's beam, made a final march upon her matin sanctuary.

Perrine responded with equal decisiveness. With one deft move, she parried the sun's blow, pulling the cord from off of the bed post. The canopy's curtains fell closed, burying the entire mattress in blissful antimony shadows. She half turned, half fell back into bed, and was asleep again before her head ever touched the pillow.

Eventually, there came such a lateness of the hour that it would have been indecent for a young noblewoman to remain in bed any longer, even if she were sleeping in. Her good manners and sense of refinement would not allow her to lay in bed ALL day. That, and she found that, try as she might, she couldn't possibly sleep any more.

Getting up was accomplished in stages. Gradually she could feel herself beginning to resolve out of a dreamy tangle. She became aware of the separation between the blankets draping over her and the sheets underneath, and of her head lying on the pillow, until eventually she was fully aware of herself as she lay in bed.

"Mmfh, mes lunettes", she murmured in her native Gallian tongue, reaching one hand out of the curtains to retrieve her spectacles from the night stand.

It felt so good to wake up gradually, not to the jarring call of a bugle or the insistent wail of an air raid siren. For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the underside of the canopy above. Then, mustering all of her resolve, she sat up.

As she rose, her yellow tresses fell down to either side in a beautiful tangle that made it easy to see how story tellers might imagine tales of flax being spun into gold. Her pale skin gleamed, too delicate for the sun. The covers fell away, revealing her blue gown adorned with a string of bows along its hem. A darker blue ruffle formed her collar, and for modesty, a hint of lace spread beneath her neck.

Madam Guillotine had long ago reaped the flower of Gallian chivalry. And what the guillotine had spared had been plowed under at Waterloo, or left to freeze on an Orussian plain. And what was left from Waterloo had been fed to the guns at Verdun. There were still bits and pieces all over the countryside. Those that were big enough to be found had been gathered up into the Ossuary, for a memorial, so that all might remember this. But there were still a few flowers left.

Being thus awake, there was only one thing left to do, and so, gathering all her courage, she ventured to poke her head outside of the bed curtains.

By now the sun was streaming through the window, casting deep shadows in the moldings of the paneled walls.

"Ahh!" she winced, as her eyes adjusted to the light.

Her coat was hanging on a stand not far from the bed, where it gleamed a brilliant blue, like the sky. Her rank as a Flying Officer was clearly marked on either sleeve with two golden stripes. Along with it hung a clean white blouse, newly starched and pressed, and a fresh jabot for her neck.

She made her way over to the light switch. Turning it on made little difference in the actual brightness of the room. In the wake of the sun, the best the wall sconces could do was emit a faint gleam, but their yellow light made the room seem cheerier somehow. The effect was all the more pronounced when she drew the curtains. Next, she locked the door, and tried the handle, twice, to make certain the lock was working. Having taken these precautions, she went to the dresser, to the top drawer, to retrieve her prize.

It had been very expensive - even more so in light of the rationing, and it had taken two trips into town to get it - one to place the order, and one to pick it up. But it had been worth it.

"Made with plastic - the product of the future!" the cardboard box proudly proclaimed. Carefully she removed the lid. Inside she found the heating iron, just as the catalog had described, along with a little book. She squeezed the handle, noting the way the jaws opened, then examined the cord at the other end, studying everything with the same careful precision she might bestow when examining a new rifle.

"Please allow five minutes for adequate pre-heating", the book read.

"Hmm . . ."

She plugged the cord into the wall, and then finished reading the pamphlet. It didn't take long, and the directions seemed clear, but as she held the iron in one hand, and a lock of her precious flaxen hair in the other, she could not help but feel a sense of dread. But she had come too far to turn back now.

With a deep breath, she gathered her courage, and fed her hair into the mouth of the beast. She twirled it around one - two - three times, then slowly lowered the thumb latch, as carefully as if she were letting the hammer down on a live round in the chamber.

"One thousand one - one thousand two - Eeek!" she exclaimed, as the machine emitted a small hiss. She was certain she could smell something burning.

When the recommended number of seconds had passed, she pressed the latch again, and drawing the iron out, laid it on the table. She took up the hand mirror, but found she didn't have the nerve to make herself look. She spent several moments, turning her chin this way and that. Finally, with another deep breath, she managed to turn her head enough to steal a sideways glance at her reflection. What she saw made her gasp.

There, in place of the long, flaxen lock, she was delighted to see a neat spring of perfect curls.

"It works!" she exclaimed, stroking them with her fingers, admiring the way they would stretch and then return to their shape.

Then, taking up the iron again, she resumed her work.

"You know, some of those initiatives the High Command keeps sending you are pretty dumb", Erica said, "but this one is actually kinda' cool."

"I agree", the Commander said, being deliberately vague about which part of Erica's judgment she was agreeing with. "Having inter-cultural food days is a great way to help sustain morale. And it's very thoughtful of Lynette to share one of the days out of her week to try making something from Liberion. Shirley, are you excited about having a meal that reminds you of home?"

"Am I EVER! It's been forever since I've had me some good old fashioned flap jacks!"

"Fu-ra-ppu ja-ku?" Yoshika asked, trying to make sense of the foreign word.

"It's Liberian slang", the Commander explained. "Be careful", she teased. "We don't want Shirley to rub off on you."

"Hey!"

"But in all seriousness, I suggest we enjoy this. It will be Mio's turn in the kitchen next week, and I expect all she'll give us is plain white rice for three meals a day. And if we're lucky, she'll let us do pushups to earn some soy sauce."

"Oh - ho - ho! That's a good idea! Ten for each drop!"

"It's ready!" Lynette said, bursting through the kitchen door carrying a tray and wearing an apron The sounds and smells of sizzling bacon could be heard from the doorway behind her.

"ALL RIGHT!" Shirley said, turning to Francesca, "Now you're in for a real - OH . . ."

All the young women of the 501st stared at the tray in horror.

"What is THAT?" Erica asked, as soon as Lynette was safely back in the kitchen and out of earshot.

There on the plate in front of Shirley, swimming in a puddle of bacon grease, was a strange, quivering mass, the center of which bore several scorch marks, like a runway after a particularly bad crashed landing.

Shirley swallowed hard as she loosened her collar.

"Gulp!"

"Well, it's too bad there's not enough for all of us -" Barkhorn said, only to see Lynette appear again, carrying a second tray.

"And for everyone else -"

"Mein Gott . . !"

"Oh, and don't forget the syrup!"

Shirley took up her fork, and prodded the mysterious object before her. It gurgled, as a stream of hot, molten batter issued from its side. Slowly, the center began to collapse.

Yoshika watched in horror.

"Major, do we have to -"

"Yes, Miyafuji," Sakamoto said, tightening the band around her ponytail.

"I'm just saying -"

"YES, Miyafuji," she said more sternly, taking her butter knife and wrapping the handle with her napkin.

"But - we could -"

"YES, MIYAFUJI!", she shouted, taking up her fork. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times - WE are women of FUSO, and women of FUSO do NOT retreat!"

Perrine giggled as she looked in the mirror.

"They're perfect!"

She turned her head to the right, and then the left, but no matter how she held the mirror, from every angle her hair presented a mass of perfectly shaped blonde curls. She spent a considerable amount of time admiring her work from different angles, occasionally adding a pin here or there to help them hold their shape.

"This is the best day ever - and I haven't even left my room yet!"

Just then, her stomach emitted a very unladylike growl.

"Speaking of which, I suppose I should go down and see about getting some breakfast", she thought. "I hope there's something left."

Her stomach growled in agreement. Holding her jabot in her teeth, she quickly threw on her blouse. Since there were no exercises that day, she selected one with longer sleeves that ended in a pair of lace cuffs.

"There!" she said, after she'd pulled on her tights, and made a quick pass with the scarf around her neck.

She resisted the urge to slide down the banister (though she did think about it), choosing instead to descend the stairs with the demure elegance befitting a queen.

"After all, SOMEONE has to teach those other girls how to act. Especially that Miyafuji - she's the worst. I don't understand how she -"

As she rounded the corner, she was greeted with a scene of abject horror.

"Major Sakamoto!" she said, running to stoop by Mio's side. "What's wrong!? Speak to me!?"

The Major spoke English so fluently that she normally had no hint of an accent. But in that moment of extreme duress, her voice was tinged with a heavy tint of her native Fusongo.

"Panu . . . keiku . . ."

The Major gasped, taking Perrine's hand and looking at her with all the urgency of a dying murder victim desperately trying to identify her killer.

"What?

" . . .panu . . . keiku . . ." came the sound of another, higher pitched voice. This one belonged to Miyafuji.

She'd said it so emphatically that, for the moment, Perrine forgot her dislike of the little raccoon dog, and instead stood there looking back and forth between the two of them, frantically trying to understand what was going on.

Just then, the kitchen door swung open. Amid the sounds of sizzling, Lynette emerged, wearing a pink apron and carrying a skillet and a spatula.

"Oh, Perrine! You're just in time! We're almost done, but I still have a little batter left - would you like some pancakes?"

The Major squeezed Perrine's hand sharply, making her look down. Sakamoto looked up at her as if the fate of the world depended on her decision. Without lifting her head away from the wall, she shook it weakly from side to side.

Perrine looked at her questioningly, then turned back to Lynnette.

"I think I'll pass . . ."

"Aw - well what about some Gallian toast, with maybe a café au lait?"

Just then the air raid sounded.

"The Neuroi . . ." the Commander's voice came weakly from the opposite corner. "Perrine - you and Bishop . . . you have to . . . There's no one else . . . It's up to you . . ."

Perrine's amber eyes shone coldly behind her glasses.

"Understood."

Against the serene, frost blue sky, the Strikers' engines roared.

"Alright Lynette!" Perrine barked in a tone that she hoped was reminiscent of Major Sakamoto. "You heard the Commander! Everything is up to us!"

"Yes ma'am!" Lynette answered, without hesitation.  
>"Good", Perrine said, reassured by her confidence. "There's only two of us, so if we fly out too far and something gets past us, there'll be nothing we can do, so we'll use your range to intercept them instead. We'll set up a series of defensive perimeters. Kill or wound as many as you can. I'll finish anything that gets through.<p>

'If we're in danger of being overwhelmed, we'll fall back to the next perimeter, and use the same technique from there. Is everything clear?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Commander, are you able to get a reading?"

"It looks like a flight of X-3s" Minna answered, hoping the radio did not pick up the gurgling of her stomach. "There are some smaller craft mixed in - possibly buzz bombs. Remember - we don't know how the Neuroi think. Don't assume that they'll be using the same tactics as before."

"Affirmative", Perrine said, studying the ground below her to get her bearings, and to look for any landmarks that would help give her a sense of the distance between them and the approaching Neuroi.

"This will have to do. Take up your position here. I'll fly out ahead and meet anything that gets too close. I'm counting on you to engage as many targets as you can at a distance – and to not shoot ME in the process!"

"Understood!"

Perrine looked at Bishop doubtfully, remembering yesterday's incident with the Split S, but at this point, there was nothing more she could do.

"Clostermann -" the Commander said gravely, sensing the Neuroi's approach.

"I see them", Perrine answered coldly. "Here they come!"

Lynette watched as three pinpoints of magenta light glowed in the distance, welling up brighter as they tracked soundlessly towards her, until with a sudden crackle each of them crashed against her shield. The impact pushed her back, but her shield did its work, absorbing their energy and radiating it harmlessly out to either side, into the empty air.

With some effort, she managed to keep her Boys anti-tank rifle in line with the leading target. As the sizzling from the third hit subsided, she licked her lips, and lining up the two offset rings, dropped her shield momentarily, and fired.

The round hit the Neuroi ship just behind the nose, and slightly off to the right.

As expected, the remaining ships returned fire. Timing the strobes of raising her shield with working the rifle's manual bolt had taken a lot of practice to perfect, but with two more blasts, she dropped the remaining ships. Perrine trained the muzzle of her Bren to follow the third one, which had smoked, but did not fall. Her finger felt cold against the metal trigger. It began to tense, but on seeing it break up into a scatter of hexagonal plates surrounding a glimmer of the shattered core, she relaxed it again, knowing the craft was finished.

"So far, so good . . ." she thought, adjusting her spectacles. "Our limited numbers won't matter so long as we can keep engaging them at long range."

Lynette could feel a bead of sweat running down the side of her face, but she would not chance moving her hands to wipe it away. Already the air in front of her had grown heated from the dissipated Neuroi blasts.

"Here comes the second wave!"

Two more blasts echoed from the mouth of the Boys anti-tank, filling the sky with each thunderous report, but then - silence. The five round magazine was empty.

"Oh no you don't!" Perrine shouted, leveling the mouth of her Bren, and funneling a devastating barrage right into the midst of the oncoming ship. What the Bren lacked in precision it made up for in volume of fire. The Neuroi fell from this peppering, trailing bits of its shattered core out each of the holes.

"Whew!" she said, feeling of her tousled hair, and finding most of her curls still intact. "And I didn't even have to use my magic!"

'Is that the best you've got!" she shouted, turning toward the open sky and shaking her fist defiantly.

As if to answer her, the Neuroi's beams opened up on three sides, bracketing them with a steady barrage.

"Fall back!"

"But -"

"I said fall back! We'll take up the same tactic from the next perimeter!"

"Yes ma'am!" Lynette agreed, and leaning back into a kind of aerial back stroke, leveled her rifle between her propellers, and picked off the lead ship, even as she retreated.

"Not bad!" Perrine said, lowering her glasses to look over their lenses. "At this rate, we just might have a chance!"

"Officer Clostermann, report?" Commander Minna's voice crackled in the radio.

"Ma'am, the first two waves of the enemy are destroyed! We're making a strategic retreat to a second perimeter at 2 kilometers from the base!"

"Very well. Proceed!"

"I take it back . . ." Barkhorn said between gasps. "I take it all back . . ."

"What?" the Commander asked, wincing in pain.

"I take back any time that I ever doubted Bishop. Anyone who could eat that food, day after day, and still be able to walk - much less fly - much less FIGHT - has to be the toughest woman alive . . ."

"Let's hope you're right", the Commander said, still grimacing, "because at the moment, she and Perrine are all that stands between us and the Neuroi."

The best that Hartmann could manage to add was a low moan.

"Ohh . . ." she said, lying on her back with both hands clapped over her stomach, "So sick . . ."

Eila looked carefully around and below the bend in the stairway. Seeing nothing, she crept down to the last step, where she paused again, looking to either side. The coast was clear. There was no one to be found.

"The problem with being on the night patrol is that you get hungry at the weirdest times", she thought to herself. "On top of that, you don't even know what to CALL it. I mean, you can't really call it a midnight snack when you're eating it at noon - for everyone else, that's lunch! And then -"

Entering the kitchen, she stopped short. There, on the table, unguarded, sat a heaping plate of light, fluffy pancakes.

"What's this? Between Hartmann and Lucchini, there are never leftovers this late in the day!"

Eila looked to the right, then to the left, but her shifty eyes had not deceived her. There was no one in the kitchen.

"Heh - heh . . . Suddenly I foresee a big breakfast in my future! Or is it supper? Who cares? I better get some for Sanya, too . . ."

Perrine centered the sights of her rifle so that the three prongs skewered the Neuroi, then squeezed the trigger. The burst stopped short, with the slide locked back, empty, but it had slowed the Neuroi considerably. A well placed round from Bishop finished the job.

"Fall back! We're in danger of being overwhelmed!"

"Ma'am!"

"Shirley", Barkhorn said, her breath coming in thick gasps. "In case we don't make it . . . I just want you to know . . . that you were always the fastest -"

"Trudy, no!"

"No - I mean it. Even with the Violet Lightning . . . or the Thunder Striker . . . I'm strong. I've always been strong. But you . . . were always . . . the fastest . . ."

"Trudy . . ."

"And Hartmann . . ."

"Yes?"

"You're the best disgrace of a pilot I've ever had the honor of serving with . . ."

"Um . . . thanks . . . I think."

"Shirley?"

Francesca's voice wheezed, coming in plaintive gasps.

"Yes Fran?"

"I have something to tell you too . . . I just . . . I . . . just . . . I just want you to know . . . that - out of all of us . . . you . . . always . . . had the biggest boobs . . ."

". . . . ."

"There's too many! Fall back!"

"But ma'am, this is the last perimeter! If we leave now, they'll -"

"Just go, Bishop! Set up on the roof and snipe them from there! I'll stay here and hold them off as long as I can -"

"But you'll be -"

"I don't care! I swore after the fall of Gallia that I'd never retreat again! I've already lost one home to the Neuroi - I won't lose another one, even if that means -"

Just then a purple bolt tore through the sky. It was heading for the defiant Gallian with such murderous precision that even Lynette, who was accustomed to looking through her gun sight at horrors, cringed, involuntarily turning away. She did not want to look back, afraid of what she'd see, but when she forced herself to shift her eyes, she saw Perrine, still floating in the sky, in a kind of daze.

The purple streak had just missed her head, passing ever so slightly to the right. The bolt had come so near, it burned away both her coat and shirt, exposing her pale shoulder underneath. A large divot in her golden hair showed what the path of the beam had been, where it had bitten out a wide crescent.

The Commander shouted into the radio, "Damage? Status? Clostermann - report!"

But Perrine remained where she was. Slowly, without a word, she put her hand up to the side of her head, feeling the mass of tangled frizz where her beautiful golden locks used to be. Then she turned to the Neuroi with murder in her eyes.

"Grrrrr -" she growled, reaching her slender arm up towards the sky, her fingers spread and searching. As she balled them closed into a fist, Lynette could feel the atmosphere change. The clouds visibly darkened, and a low roll of thunder went along the ground. A flash of lightning reflected in Perrine's spectacles.

"T-O-N-N-E-R-R-E-E-E-E-E-E-E!"

All at once, the sky was set alight, and the clouds caught fire, as though the very heavens exploded with rage towards her enemies.

For the Neuroi, there was no hope, no chance of escape. Every single ship was sought out, and found by the jagged fingers as they searched the sky.

Perrine fell forward, catching herself. Never before had she summoned so many bolts at once. For a moment she thought the feat had killed her, but as she heard the low rolling rumble pass beneath her feet, along the valley floor below, she knew that she was still alive. Looking out across horizon, she could see the remains of the Neuroi fleet, burning as they fell, sinking out of the sky.

As she watched them fall, Lynette flew up, alongside her. Without a word, a moment of silent understanding passed between the two of them. Then she shouldered her rifle. In the harsh glare of the muzzle flash, Perrine's face glowed, ruthless and red, as one by one, Lynette put a round through each of the falling Neuroi, just to be sure.

Drawing her sword, Perrine held it up in front of her face, and made a sharp "flick!" It was less a salute than a gesture of dismissal.

Then she turned, and flew away.

"Tell me again why we have to get up so early", Erica yawned, fighting to stay awake against the steady droning sound of the cargo plane's engines.

Commander Minna cleared her throat.

"Ahem – In recognition of Lynette and Perrine's special bravery, the Royal Britanian Airforce has decided to award the entire 501st a very special honor . . ."

Reaching into her bag, she produced a small round cap, bright scarlet color. Lynette gasped.

"The Red Beret!"

Minna nodded.

"It's a hat", Barkhorn said, a bit bluntly. She'd been up all night, nursing a sick stomach, and for once she agreed with Erica about having to get up so early.

"Um, Commander, we're all honored", Yoshika said hesitantly, "but why aren't we wearing our Strikers?"

"Yeah", Shirley put in, "and what's with these backpacks?"

Just then the pilot's voice broke in over the intercom.

"Commander, we've reached an altitude of twelve thousand feet. Base has given the all clear."

"Receiving the Red Beret is a great privilege", the Commander went on, inching her way towards a large red lever positioned by the door. "It means that we all will be honorary members of the Royal Britanian Airforce. But there is one mission every member – even honorary ones – must complete first . . ."

"Um, Commander", Yoshika asked, trembling at the icy resolve that had come over Minna. "What's that?"

Minna reached out and gave the red lever a sharp pull.

"Their first jump!"

All at once, the rear hatch fell away, turning the back half of the cargo area into a swirling vortex. All but two of the 501st were sucked out, into the wind.

"WAUGGGHHH!"

As Minna stood looking out over the edge smiling, Mio gave her an incredulous look.

"Do you think we should have at least told them first?"

"Nah, it's better this way. Some of them might have chickened out and missed out on the honor. And besides, they would have been too nervous to enjoy the flight if they had known."

Mio raised an eyebrow at this logic, but said nothing about it.

"Well, I suppose we should go too", the Commander said, and with a small, dignified hop, jumped off of the ramp, and out into the wind. The Major Sakamoto stared for a second, then jumped after her.

"-AAAUUUGGGHHH!" Yoshika continued her scream.

"WHEEE!" Francesca shouted. "Can we do this again!?"

"Heh – heh – heh", Shirley chuckled. She'd discovered that by leaning into the wind, she could make herself fall even faster.

"I give up", Perrine said, as her beautiful blonde hair blew and tangled all around her. "I just give up!" she shouted, adjusting her spectacles so that they kept the wind out of her eyes.

"Ladies, we're approaching an altitude of thirty-five hundred feet. All chutes deploy", the Commander said, still a few seconds above and behind them. She watched for each canopy to open, counting them one by one.

"Whew!" Yoshika said, looking up at the brilliant white canopy overhead as she floated in space. "That actually wasn't so bad!"

Lynette nodded in agreement.

"So hey, everyone, when we get back, what would you all like for breakfast?"

The entire 501st answered at once, without any hesitation,

"SCONES!"


End file.
